Alex Van Helsing The Triumph of Death - By Jason Henderson Page 0,50
Astrid’s knee as if she felt sorry for her.
The thread stacked, and flowed, and soon formed into an image about three feet high. Washed-out color came into the image, spotted with fluid and bits of wool. It was a three-dimensional model of a woman with curly brown hair, about forty years old. The woman looked like a Russian countess, with a long white coat and white muff.
“Claire Clairmont during her Russia years.” Mother Laura kept pedaling, the thread looping around her, lying in wait. “This is the woman who is currently threatening the world.”
Amanda went on. “Claire came to Hexen in 1827 while she worked in Russia as a governess. She possessed great powers of suggestion and seduction and was trained by the organization to be placed in the Russian court as a spy. But of course she had no intention of continuing with us. What she really wanted was to find Lord Byron, her lover, who by that time was an active vampire with the Scholomance, and reunite her family. Most of all, she wanted Allegra.”
Another image appeared next to Claire’s, coming to about her waist, a little girl with lush blond curls: Allegra Byron.
Laura picked up the story. “Allegra Byron was born in 1817 and was immediately taken in by Lord Byron, her father, who proceeded to deny Claire any access. He was willing to have Allegra in his life, but he was irritated by Claire and found sadistic pleasure in keeping them apart. But Byron soon tired of Allegra and had the little girl placed in a convent in Italy, where she died at the age of five, of typhus.”
Another image grew, a tall and sneering image Alex knew well. “And this is Lord Byron, the vampire you call Icemaker. We think that sometime in the 1830s, Byron and Claire reconciled. These two people, Byron and the little Allegra, are the most important people in Claire’s life.”
Another image grew, a man with a beard in a simple shirt and floppy hat. “This is Pieter Bruegel, the painter.”
Astrid cut in. “I learned in Madrid that Pieter Bruegel was paid to create a painting to commemorate the actual effects of the spell known as the Triumph of Death. The people who hired him were located in a castle of huge black towers. The painting contains clues as to how to stop the curse.”
“Yes,” Mother Laura said. “Blacktowers, that’s a group as old as Hexen.”
Alex’s head was spinning with the idea that the Polidorium, whose roots he always regarded as ancient, was actually quite young compared to some of these older players in the game. “We’ve been calling them the Strangers,” Alex said. “And they’re still active. Updating the painting as they go. Even leading us to the clues in case we missed them.”
A bird-like chirp drew Alex’s glance to a paneled wall opposite the large windows. The wooden slats there spun around slowly and clicked back into place, forming a wall-sized flat panel of gray. The gray panel flickered, and Alex looked through the wall and saw the Polidorium boardroom.
Sangster and Armstrong were in the boardroom looking at them, and on the screen at the end of their table, Alex could see they were again looking at the painting, The Triumph of Death.
“Mother Laura?” Sangster said, standing up. “Thank you for answering. I don’t think we’ve formally met.”
“Well, there’s no time like the present,” Mother Laura replied.
Alex looked at Astrid. “Wait, how did they—” Alex shook his head. “Is this magic, too?”
“It’s Cisco Telepresence.” Laura smiled and looked back at Sangster. That was sophisticated teleconferencing software. So that meant that when they preferred it, Hexen had any kind of tech it wanted in the Orchard. Nice. “You’ve found something?”
“Maybe,” Sangster said. “Alex, how are you feeling?”
“I…I guess I’m glad to be here,” he said.
Now Sangster smiled, genuinely. “Not many people can survive an attack from a vampire as powerful as Byron. It was a close call.”
Alex swallowed and tried to decide what to say. “It shouldn’t have happened. I let him get to me.”
“That’s all the more reason to count your blessings.”
Alex nodded several times, but he was uncomfortable with the attention. Icemaker would kill thousands in the years to come, he was sure of it. Even if they stopped the Triumph of Death. Alex had committed an atrocity by being the vehicle for Byron’s escape. He was caught for a minute in a loop of self-disgust.